


Sweet But Psycho

by artemis_writes



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altean Lance (Voltron), Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Black Paladin Allura (Voltron), But it will get darker, Confused Lance (Voltron), Dark Shiro (Voltron), F/F, Forced Marriage, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lotor is fabulous, M/M, Military Keith, Military Shiro, Prince Lance (Voltron), Socially Awkward Keith (Voltron), cursing, don't plan on this being a happy story, like there's some fluff, tbh lance is kinda a dick at the beginning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2020-07-25 03:13:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20018920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artemis_writes/pseuds/artemis_writes
Summary: When Lance, the Second Prince of Altea is forced to marry Keith, the elusive and hot-headed Commander of the Galran Army, all hell breaks loose within his kingdom, especially when a certain human comes along for the ride. Let the death chaos, bribery, secrets, betrayal, and just an inkling of fluff begin!





	1. An Insanely Crazy and Totally Impossible Proposal

**Author's Note:**

> yeah, so, this is kinda out of nowhere, but I've got a competition of sorts with my_name_is_irrelevant so go check out her fic if/when she posts it! 
> 
> in case you didn't catch on from the title and summary, this isn't going to be a very happy story. *yes* there will be some fluff as things go on, but in general, it won't be the happiest.
> 
> this chapter, by far, is one of the happier ones. (dw, i will leave any trigger warnings at the beginning, but everyone should be good for now!)
> 
> enjoy :)

_ “Excuse me?” _

“I know, I know, ‘Llura. It’s not ideal-”

“Not _ ideal? _ Lance, you have got to be pulling my leg. This could alter the course of our kingdom’s future forever! That means permanent consequences. It’s not a child’s game anymore.”

But oh, how he wishes it could be. Children’s games always meant safety in their temporary nature, in the way that nobody gets hurt. In the way that they would both smile when everything was over. He hadn’t seen Allura smile since they had played in the gardens together all those years ago. 

She is meant to be a queen, and a good one at that. Composed, diplomatic, and the Black Paladin of Voltron, the only thing hindering her future rule as Crown Princess is a right hand.

A right hand. 

“Allura, if this is about the Red Lion-” 

She sighs, “No, I know. I know, baby brother. You’ve tried and I appreciate that. I wouldn’t ask you to do it again. It puts a strain on your bond with Blue. Plus, I know you how much you love her. I don’t expect you to leave her any time soon.” 

_ True enough. _

Lance raises an eyebrow, “So then what _ is _ this about?” 

She takes a deep breath. “Regardless of whether or not Kogane is a genuine threat, a genuine opposition to the throne-”

“-He’s just a guy.”

“It’s still worth noting that the Galran informacional systems keep portraying him as- 

“-As a guy who can fight?” Lance offers playfully. 

Allura gives him a look. “As a guy with the exact qualities that the Red Lion favors in her paladin.” 

“Or,” Lance offers a smirk, “As a guy with horrible fashion taste and a _ mullet _. Who the hell still has one of those? There’s no way Red would pick him before he cuts that atrocious hair style and given how stubborn he is...I think you’re good, Allura.”

She allows a small smirk to crack her perfect, queenly mask. 

He tries to ignore how Allura had begun to put it on, even around him. “Call it what you want, Lance, but that mullet may be looking for trouble. Galrans always are.”

“‘Llura, the only trouble this guy must get into is with the royal family. I’m sure that prince must have his eyes on him,” he wiggles his eyebrows. 

“You mean the prince that’s been banished? Or the one that’s been missing since birth?”

“Touche.”

Allura gives a little laugh. “It’s good to know that I can still rely on you.”

“Of course you can! I _ am _the most handsome man in this galaxy.”

“Well then, baby brother, I suppose we’ll have to meet after dinner for a game of Altean Pool. If you’re up for it?”

“Duh,” Lance mocks, ruffling his sister’s tiara.

“Lance!” she laughs, a real one, “I’ve got meetings after this!”

“Hey-” he protests, shoving her hand away from his head, “I spend _ time _on my hair! This takes hours!”

“Oh, I’m sure.”

“Get ‘outta here, ‘Llura.”

“Your words, not mine,” she taunts, getting up to leave Lance’s quarters.

“I’d recommend you some of my moisturiser, but-”

“You know my products are better.”

He dramatically puts a hand to his chest. “As if! How dare you utter such an _ insult _!” 

“It’s not insulting if it’s true,” she retorts. As she was about to leave his set of rooms, she adds, “It’s nice to see you.” before gently shutting the door.

“Back at you,” Lance replies, a small smirk still on his face.

A gentle knock comes from Lance’s door. “Your Highness?”

“Yes?” he replies, freezing from his place at his vanity, his circlet still crooked on the top of his head. It still shocks him how his voice barely sounds like his. 

He worked hard to make sure people began to take him seriously. Outside of the royal family and a few choice others, everybody thinks that the Second Prince of Altea has been reformed since his early teenage years, a task that most nobles thought would be too tall of an order for Lance to fill. Who knew that it was so easy to trick people into believing that he would become a trustworthy advisor and Right Leg of Voltron. 

“His Majesty requests your presence in court.” The voice seems to hesitate before adding, “It’s urgent business.”

Lance pauses before replying in order to spray a bit of perfume onto his wrists. “Thank you. You can tell him that I’ll be there immediately.” 

He hopes that he didn’t come off as stiff and insincere since he was sure the servant would report it to his father in which case he would get another lecture about the importance of appearances both in and out of Court. Alteans would always be a rather stuffy bunch. 

“Thank you, my prince.”

He swears he could hear the servant bow before they leave. 

_ Who bows when you can’t even see them? _

For some reason, Lance finds himself holding his breath until he could hear the servant’s footsteps fade away like he would when he was a child. Allura would never participate in such behavior, even from a young age. Even if it was rather harmless. 

She was always a queen.

He smiles at that thought and caught his own gaze in the mirror. Tall, lanky, and quite tan, sort of like a street rat. He doesn’t need to point out the differences in his appearance; anybody in the kingdom could do that for him. His hair is too dark - like his grandmother’s, as he was constantly reminded - and his eye scales too bright. The goofy smile on his face wasn’t one of a leader nor was the constant fidgeting he’s prone to. 

Plus, it’s not like the Blue Paladin has ever been in the running for any sort of major leadership position. More like a follower, a loyal supporter who has everyone’s backs in battle and in Court. In short, he was never meant to be king. 

And thank the Lion Goddess for that.

Lance had found out from a young age that he didn’t have the natural aptitude for diplomacy nor leadership that his sister possesses. He knows that people think of him as the fuck up pilot of the Blue Lion with a charming smile and dashing good looks and that’s fine with him. Allura is more than welcome to the throne and her rightful place as Crown Princess. 

Besides, he’s extremely proud of her. 

He always would be. 

“Let’s go, Lance,” he jokes, flashing his trademark smile and finger guns at his reflection.

With a quick glance back at his vanity and an adjustment of his golden circlet, Lance makes his way out of his quarters, the fine wood door shutting with a deep _ boom _behind him.  


His Father had always been regal, but one would find that the numerous guards and lavish blue and silver throne and decor would enhance that factor. Given this, it’s impossible to deny that the King is getting old. Wrinkles are becoming more than the result of smiles and his six year old body is no longer the heaviest weight put onto him.

As Lance walks to his Father’s throne, he flashes him a small smile. One that he returns, if not reluctantly. 

_ Is there something he doesn’t know about? _

“Father,” Lance greets, kneeling at the foot of the elegant throne. 

“Rise, my son,” he offers, looking at him with something that seems too close to pitying. “I’m sure you’re curious as to why I summoned you.”

He has to hold back the laughter that accompanies his thoughts of the formalities in the Altean Court. If only the nobles watching knew about the way Alfor’s smile - his real smile - could light up the room. How he could sooth Lance whenever he fell from a royal steed and how his shoulders used to be the highest place in Lance’s world.

“Of course.”

“I’m sure you’re well aware of the recent processes regarding your sister and possible suitors as well as the coming threat of foreign powers.” He pauses, allowing Lance to take in this new information.

_ Why is he being so vague? _

He tries to hide the confusion in his voice. “Yes, Father.”

“It’s come to my attention that Commander Keith Kogane of Daibazaal has requested entry into Altea.”

“Father,” Lance begins, the confusion evident in his eyes, “With all due respect, why am I personally being informed of this?”

“Lance, I understand your confusion. I was a bit baffled as well, though I believe that Commander Kogane’s intentions are pure. He has openly expressed interest in creating relations with our kingdom. Seeing as he is around the same age as you, I found it appropriate that you would be his guide for his trip. I trust that you will undertake this task?”

_ It’s not like there’s another option. _

“Of course, Father,” Lance answers, perhaps a bit too stiff.

Why did he have to be stuck with the infamous Keith Kogane? That man is known for his temperamental behavior and daring maneuvers on the battlefield, yet people speak his name with reverence and a hint of fear. 

Personally, Lance doesn’t see what he had to be afraid of. After all, rumors say that the man has both an atrocious personality and an equally horrendous hairstyle. 

How could he be seen with someone with that sort of haircut? How had Kogane gotten past all the discrimination that mullet-wearing people face?

Other than that, he also suspects that his Father has ulterior motives. One that he is sure Alfor intends to use to give him a sort of bodyguard, one that he wouldn’t be able to ditch in the castle’s floor plan without gravely insulting another culture. (Of course Pidge’s culture didn’t seem to count as the humans seem mostly impervious to...well, everything regarding social customs.)

_Fine._

“It is my understanding that you will need time to prepare for Commander Kogane’s arrival in approximately twenty four vargas so-”

Lance has to balance a strained breath. “Tomorrow? Father, may I ask why he has scheduled his arrival so..soon?”

“I believe that Commander Kogane wishes to introduce himself to the Altean Court as soon as possible.” Alfor smiles apologetically. 

He has a feeling that they’ll be talking later, but for now, he needs to find his sister.

“Thank you, Father.”

“Thank you, Lance. I will see you next quintent.”

With that, Alfor gives a nod and the royal guards around the doors open them in a quick, practiced movement. 

“I trust you won’t need any personal guards.”

_ Right. Of course. _

“I’m honored, but no thank you, Father. I’m plenty capable on my own.”

“I’m sure."

“Right hand corner pocket.”

“Seriously? That’s an impossible shot.” Lance points to the yellow ball his sister intends to hit. 

“Seriously.” she affirms, a smirk on her face. 

Lance watches as Allura takes a deep breath to steady her gloved hand against the soft blue surface of the pool table. She takes the golden cue stick, the glowing end away from her, and places it against her thumb and pointer. She experimentally moves it around with her other hand at her hip towards the white cue ball. Leaning closer over the table, Allura exhales and swiftly strikes it with her stick. 

“Not so impossible now, huh?” she asks, looking at Lance, no doubt ready to gloat, though he didn’t watch her as his eyes were glued to the ball’s movement. 

He sees it strike the wall and then the yellow ball on the side, knocking it into the right hand corner pocket with satisfying _ clink. _

“Hey,” he protests, “Sometimes even geniuses are wrong.”

“Nobody said anything about genius, little brother.”

_ “I’m offended!” _

“Sure you are,” she laughs. “Although I hope not too much so that the genius won’t take his shot.”

“But it’s still your turn, ‘Llura-“

She swiftly hits the cue ball into the side of the wall, into a corner full of her own balls, blocking his shot. He notices how she carefully aimed it so that the cue ball barely touched any of hers in order for the turn to pass to Lance. 

“Cheater!”

“No-” she says, setting her stick down, “-I just missed my shot.”

Lance huffs, “Fine.”

He picks up his cue stick from where it rests against the marble edge of the table and carefully examines the placement of the balls. As his eyes scan for possibly successful shots, he smirks as he lines up the stick to hit the side of the white ball. 

“Watch this,” he smirks. 

Allura aptly does so, only to see him flip the stick behind his back, his arms adjusting to realign the shot. His stick placed between his pointer and index finger, a position that reminds him of his bow. 

“Left corner pocket.”

He does the same as she did, taking a few practice jabs near the cue ball before hitting it with a fair amount of power near the ball’s side. This time, it’s Allura’s turn to be impressed as it hits the middle of a dark red ball, forcing it into the aforementioned pocket. 

“Pretty damn good, right?” Lance asks, a cocky smile on his face. 

“I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of telling you, even if it was,” she replies, a similar mischievous look spread across her features. 

“Ugh, fine. Guess I’ll have to do something even _ better _this time.”

“Actually-” she interrupts, interrupts, setting his pool stick against a nearby wall, “-I’d like to know what Father had to say earlier. People are starting to seem a little nervous.”

“Apparently Kogane is coming to Altea in-” he checks his watch “-less than a quintent from now. Probably sometime in the morning. I think Father said twenty four vargas from our meeting time” 

He can practically sense the shift in the air. 

“Keith Kogane?” 

“Yup,” Lance affirms, popping the ‘p’. 

“The half Galran threat to my throne Kogane?”

“And you call me the dramatic one.” He tries to hold back a smirk at the end of the statement, though the lilt in his voice may have made that a futile attempt. 

Allura lets out a little huff. “Well most of the time you are.”

“I suppose,” he responds, a sigh and hand placed at his chest with his head tipped back for good measure. 

She pushes on. “Weren’t you upset about his mullet earlier?”

He rests his elbow against the pool table, a distressed look on his face. “Of course I was complaining about his mullet! It’s like he’s trying to get under my skin!”

“I doubt he cares about that.”

“Oh really?” Lance challenges.

“Really. I doubt he was even planning on formally meeting you until Father found the lions all those years ago.” A contemplative look falls across her face, leaving Lance to ponder her words while his sister is drawn to a time long gone from the present. 

He finally breaks the silence. “Then why does it annoy me so much?”

She laughs. “Because you’re the dramatic one.”

Lance huffs in reply before a mischievous glint barely gives way to his sudden movement. Having launched himself onto the lip of the pool table, he was now slightly above eye level with his sister.

“Oh? However did you get that impression?”

“Just a hunch,” she deadpans.

“Rude!” 

“Seriously though, Kogane’s coming?”

“Yup.”

Allura raises an eyebrow. “And that’s it?”

“Sorta?” He replies, trying to think of a way to put it that wouldn’t send her into a rage. 

“Lance,” she prompts. 

“Well,” he begins, drawing out the word, “I may have been assigned as a sort of guide for him as long as his mulleted ass is here.”

“A guide?” 

“A guide,” he repeats, a bored look on his face.

“Is that supposed to be a joke?”

They both, yet again, let the silence hang in the air.

Lance knew that was supposed to be a rhetorical question, but he couldn’t help but think of the possibility that Alfor may have been joking. It’s not like he does it very often anymore, with the weight of the crown upon his head and to be fair, not many people would be. He’s served Altea well, but Lance - and a fair amount of the nobles - can sense that it’s time for a new monarch. 

More specifically, it’s about time for Allura to step up. 

“If that’s the case, you’ll be able to see if he’s really here to strengthen relations with Altea.”

“‘Llura, I’m not going to spy on a high ranking military official. Much less a Galran one with a mullet, shitty attitude, and a bunch of armed men waiting for his orders.”

“You have to understand that it’s completely in your right to welcome a new guest and to make small talk. And if that small talk just so happens to reveal some form of suspicion, you, as the Second Prince of Altea, are most definitely allowed to investigate further."

He smirks, “Devious.”

“More like cautious,” she retorts, “It would do you well to become more so.”

Cautiousness. 

God, the things that cautiousness would have prevented. Lance could spend quintents day dreaming about how things could have been if only he had questioned things a little more, if he had listened to that nagging voice in the back of his head, if he had listened to Hunk…

If he had listened to Hunk he wouldn’t be in this predicament. If he had listened to Hunk, he wouldn’t know the hurt and pain that he does now, nor would he be sustaining a long and mysterious pause that his sister doesn’t know the cause of.

If only he had.

“Lance?”

“Huh?” he asks, shaking his head.

“Are you okay?” she raises an eyebrow.

“‘Course I’m fine.”

“Mhmm,” she hums, her arms expectantly crossed.

“I’m just not thrilled to be stuck with the mullet man. Don’t worry about me. I’m sure I can handle it.”

“I’d never doubt you, little brother. I do however, doubt your next ‘amazing shot’. Are you still up for the game?”

He smiles, “No way I’d pass up the opportunity to beat you.”

He could allow himself this. A quiet night with Allura is what he needs; just the two of them, the game in front of them, and the insincere taunts and jeers thrown back at forth. Just like it was years ago. No peace negotiations, no looming threat of being the Crown Princess, no worries about the nobles sulking around the castle. 

And most importantly, no goddamn mullet. 

“Whatcha cooking, buddy?” Lance asks, his voice carrying through the main kitchens. 

A head pokes itself out from behind the stove near the back with short black hair tied back with an orange bandana, belonging to no other than the Head Chef, Yellow Paladin, and Lance’s amazing best friend. “Just a few things for later today, nothing much.”

“_Nothing much? _Hunk, this looks so good!”

He smiles, “Thanks, buddy! I recently swapped out the Arusian flour substitute for the Balmeran one and I think you’ll like it better.”

“Where’d you get the new shipments of Balmeran products from?” Lance smirks. “Is it your girlfriend?”

“Uh,” he stammers, “Shay isn’t my girlfriend, she’s just a rock that I met and that I admire very much.”

“Riiiiight,” Lance laughs, much to Hunk’s dismay as his cheeks turn bright red.

He quickly ushers the former deeper into the kitchen; maybe to shut him up or to show him whatever courses he’s working on. Either way, it distracts him well enough.

Aromas fill his senses, most likely ones that will be served for a particular mullet arriving today. Of course there’s the familiar Altean cuisine that he’s always known; light fruits, sunflower buns and a few dishes inspired from the Earthen culture their human friend had introduced to them. 

Pidge insisted that tacos, bacon, and garlic knots made their way into feasts and Lance only encouraged their behavior when he tried the latter. Hunk had mastered them with a few substitute ingredients in a way that (thankfully) sustained both of their appetites.

However, there were some unfamiliar dishes that Lance couldn’t quite recognize. They seemed to be set off in a corner away from the more familiar foods. Most of the dishes were meat heavy which confused Lance in and of itself, but the vegetables that he saw weren’t familiar to him. Everything was heavier, stronger, and most definitely intriguing. 

“What’s that?” he asks, pointing to a particularly meaty dish in front of him.

“Try it,” Hunk offers, stepping aside from one of the many stoves to shove the dish a little closer to his friend along with a fork.

He eagerly grabs the utensil and takes an enormous bite out of it.

“Hunk!” he whines, face dropping to a pout.

“Yeah?” He looks perplexed. “Is it not good?”

“It’s not that it’s bad!” he assures him. He scrunches his face up as if he’s thinking about it further. “It’s just... different. What the hell did you put in this thing?”

“It’s mostly leftover spices from Earth that Pidge brought over since we can’t really ask the Galra what’s in their food. There’s not much left so I had to make some adjustments, but apparently it’s like a mix between two cultures back on their planet. I think they’re called Africa and India.”

“Earth sounds really fucking weird.”

“Really?”

Lance laughs, “Duh. Haven’t you heard some of the stuff Pidge says happens there? Sometimes ice falls from the sky and there’s giant animals that are like, four times the size of Yelmors! Also if their food is always that spicy, there’s no wonder why they’re so tough.”

Hunk gives him a quizzical look. “Dude, I don’t think that’s the entirety of Earth. They’ve got pool, remember?”

“And chad or whatever that game was. I feel like that negates the awesomeness of pool.”

“Chad?”

“Yeah. Pidge said it’s got kings and queens and knights. Apparently there’s castles too, though I don’t really get how that’s a game. That sounds like my fucking life.”

“Buddy, I think that’s called chess.”

He looks appalled. “_ Chess? _”

“Yup.”

“That’s a stupid name.”

Hunk snorts. I wouldn’t tell them that. They _ love _chess.”

“Figures, that nerd.”

“_ Tell me about it! _It’s enough that they’re a complete nerd, but they also-”

“You called?” 

Both boys turned around in surprise at the unfamiliar voice, expecting...well, not a 4’11 tactical statistician. Short honey brown hair is messily strewn across Pidge’s face, their glasses slightly crooked, and a large mug of what Lance thinks is some form of filtered Earth bean that helps them function loosely held in one hand. In the other, they hold a small, glowing rectangular device.

“Pidge!” Hunk exclaims, taking a pan off the oven to run over and hug his friend. 

“Don’t touch me before 10 AM.”

“We know you love us!” Lance adds, joining the group hug, which he had recently learned was a friendly Earthen greeting. 

“I suppose I don’t hate you all,” they deadpan, reluctantly wrapping their arms around Hunk and Lance, carefully balancing their mug in the air. When the three of them pull away, the cup manages to pass his nose, the hot steam filling his senses. He admittedly expected something sweeter like the moon leaf tea he has in the morning, but is instead met with something akin to burning rubber. 

“What’s in there? It smells rancid!” Lance exclaims, his nose still full of the substance. “And why’s it so dark? I thought only your version of Nunvil was black.”

“Pidge!” Hunk scolds, lifting the cup to his eye level. “Do _ not _tell me you’re drinking straight up black coffee.”

“I am not drinking straight up black coffee.”

“Then what’s this?”

“Black coffee with seven five hour energy shots.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Lance comments. 

Hunk raises an eyebrow as if he already knows the answer to the question. “Is that healthy for humans to consume?”

They tip their head back, taking a long swig of the contents of their mug. “Nope,” they chirp, a bit too happily, before venturing further into the kitchen. Lance notices their rectangle light up and make a small beeping sound in their hand.

He nearly shrieks. “Pidge!” He points to the device.

“What?” 

“That _ thing-” _he sticks his hand towards the object in question “-just did a weird thing.”

“A weird thing how? Did someone call me? Was there smoke? God, I hope it didn’t malfunction again.”

“There wasn’t any smoke,” Hunk says gently. 

“Then what was weird?” 

“Lance?” Hunk takes Pidge’s device to examine it.

“Dude, it just lit up and then turned back off. Pidge didn’t even press any buttons on it or anything. Were you hacked?”

Pidge eyes him incredulously. “You mean I got a notification?”

“A notification?” he echoes, puzzled.

“Yeah,” they say, taking it from Hunk’s hand, “That’s what phones do.”

“Phones?”

“Yup,” they affirm, taking another sip of their coffee. “I guess they’re like a miniature version of your scrolls. Except they can’t compact - yet.”

“So it just...stays that big? Where does the projection come from?” He asks, intrigued. Lance reaches out to press the only obvious button on the face of the phone, a large circle at its base. 

Pidge quickly slaps his hand out of the way. “Stop it. Don’t touch the equipment. And it comes from inside of the device. Behind the screen is a load of hardware I built myself that processes the input data to make it work.”

The whole explanation seems a bit too science-y for Lance, so he simply responds, “I’d barely call this equipment. There are Altean desks more complicated than this.”

They let out a short laugh. “Everybody knows Earth is a few centuries behind the rest of the Universe in technological advances. That’s why I’m here.”

“We know, we know. You’re here. You’re queer and you’re a genius.”

“Why thank you,” they laugh, pushing up their glasses.

Then, a shorter Altean in servants clothing seemingly appears out of nowhere and dips their head to acknowledge Lance. His features immediately switch from laidback to a more guarded and passive look. 

“Your Highness?”

He tries to even his tone, leveling out any surprise from his voice. “Yes?” 

“His Majesty requests your presence in his personal quarters.”

“Tell him I’ll be on my way.”

“Thank you, my prince,” the servant responds before giving a short bow and leaving the kitchen. As soon as the trio hears the door shut, Hunk and Pidge immediately release a fit of laughter.

“What?” he demands.

Hunk stifles his giggling to answer, “Dude, I forgot how you get when you’re being all..professional.”

Pidge takes a deep breath and another sip of coffee before noting, “It’s pretty scary.”

“Oh, the great and mighty Pidge admitting they’re afraid?” he laughs a little nervously.

“No.” they put their mug down and reach for a purple bag of ‘Takis’ as the purple bag states. He has no idea where they got it from and from the confused look on Hunk’s face, he doesn’t either. They pull apart the two ends of the bag before reaching in and stuffing their mouth full of red cylindrical pieces of what they had earlier informed him were called ‘chips’. “You just look stupid.”

“Well you always look stupid, so I guess you’d know,” Lance smirks. 

_ “Hey!” _

“Settle down, guys. There’s hot kitchen supplies here and I don’t want anybody to-” 

Hunk’s interrupted by Pidge picking up a dirty pot by the handle and pointing it menacingly at Lance. The prince shrieks and dramatically stumbles backwards towards a cupboard. A small circle in the corner of the panel lights up and he swipes his hand to the right which causes it to swing along with it. He snatches two large frying pans from it before the cupboard hisses shut.

“Duel-wielding?” they exclaim. “That’s not fair!”

Lance laughs jumping onto a nearby counter with a flourish, “Nobody mentioned playing fair, gremlin!” 

“Oh you’re on,” they smirk, pressing a long combination of commands into a nearby holoscreen. A thin white platform pops out from the floor which Pidge steps on and it lifts them onto the opposing countertop. They point their pot at Lance and he returns the same gesture. 

Lance looks baffled for a moment, lowering his weapons, though Pidge’s stay raised in paranoia. “How… how do humans say it?”

“What?” Hunk asks, still eyeing Pidge’s small form, the white platform having returned to being a simple panel on the floor.

“Ah, I think it’s what in the hell?”

“What _ the _hell, actually,” Pidge corrects. 

“So what _ the hell _was that?” he motions to where the panel had popped out from. 

They snort, “That was an aerial support platform. And before you ask, the technology was already there for me to engineer a simple program to follow basic directions within the kitchen. I honestly can’t believe you guys hadn’t thought of it before.” 

“So it’s only usable for vertically challenged Altean children?"

“No,” says a voice, “The ones I’ve seen seem plenty capable of jumping over many literal hurdles in the training deck, much less onto the top of kitchen counters.”

“‘Llura!” 

“Little brother,” she smiles. “Hunk, Pidge.”

A small chorus of ‘hellos’ and ‘my princess’ echoes through the kitchen, though Lance notices an unusually large number of normally observant cooks keep their eyes averted from his sister.

Pidge, meanwhile, had taken advantage of Lance’s distraction and stuck their pot out to meet his stomach, expecting him to react. Instead, their attack caused him to splay his arms out and fall onto the floor.

“I told you, don’t get hurt,” Hunk scolds, sending a glare at Pidge. His tone softens. “Lance, you okay, buddy?”

“Yup, ‘m fine!” he groans.

“Alright good,” Allura says, offering him a hand, “You’d best be on your way to...freshen up. Commander Kogane is set to arrive in a few vargas.”

“Shit!” he exclaims, jumping up and brushing himself off. “I’ve got to meet Father beforehand as well...I’ll barely have time for _ half _of my skincare routine.”

“I thought that was only at night.”

“Can it, gremlin! I’ve gotta go. Nice running into you though. Same to you, Allura. Bye Hunk!” 

A voice from deep within the kitchen calls, “See you later, buddy!”

And with that he’s racing down the palace halls. Well, as much racing as a proper Prince is allowed, meaning a brisk walk. Most servants leap out of his way and skip any pleasantries that would slow him down when they see how he’s in a rush.

When he finally clears the last set of crystal staircases to reach his father’s chambers, he takes a deep breath before gently knocking twice on the door to Alfor’s quarters. 

“Lance? Come in,” comes his father’s muted voice. 

He opens the door, allowing it to shut behind him. His father is seated not at his desk with too many stacks of papers, but the small sitting area placed in front of it, below the dais. White marble and blue crystal accents line the room while the sofas and table float about a rather fancy rug. 

“Father,” he greets, offering a small tilt of his head. “You wanted to see me?”

“Son, when we’re alone there is no need for formalities. We’re family,” he smiles. 

“Of course.” he returns it. 

“But yes, I do need to talk to you. I’m guessing you’ve already presumed it’s about Commander Kogane?”

“Yeah, actually.”

“Then you’d be correct,” Alfor sighs before gesturing to the space next to him. “I believe that you’d like to be seated for this.”

Lance complies, eyebrows arched at his father’s vagueness surfacing yet again. 

Alfor smiles, though he looks unsure of himself, if not a bit nervous. 

“Is everything alright?” he asks. 

“Of course, my son, though an old man’s work is never done. I’d assume that you know that certain...things can’t be allowed to take place in Court. It’s improper and this is especially delicate.”

The tension in the air only thickens; Lance holding his breath, unsure of what the man next to him will say, and Alfor looking more nervous than the meeting after his coronation.

“Commander Kogane has expressed interest in...courting a member of Altean royalty. Daibazaal believes that it will strengthen the political bond between our kingdom and theirs.”

_ What? _

How...why didn’t his father tell him yesterday? Why wasn’t he allowed the simple privilege of knowing? Was he about to be married off, at seventeen no less? No, his father wouldn’t do that, but wouldn’t that mean Allura would have to marry Kogane?

“Father...I-“

“-I know. It’s not at all convenient.”

“It’s _ beyond _inconvenient! This isn’t Old Altea, people have the right to choose who they marry, including royals. It’s a basic right, you must know that. Father, you can’t allow for this to happen.”

“Lance, I-“

“-And how could you? I’m guessing you’ve already told Allura then? And you’re just warning me about what’s to come?”

Alfor looks puzzled. “Allura?”

“Yes. Haven’t you told her she’s to be married to Kogane?”

“Lance, Commander Kogane...hasn’t expressed interest in Allura.”

_ No...Quiznack, that means- _

“He asked for your hand in marriage.”


	2. Two Commanders Walk Into A Kingdom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Shiro arrive at the Altean Palace. Lance gets a rude awakening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoah...it's been a hot second haha.... lowkey don't have an excuse, but hey, here's a new chapter! enjoy!

“Lance!” Pidge calls.

“What?”

“You’re gonna be late. That guy everyone’s been talking about is showing up in a few minutes! Shit, I meant dobashes!”

From inside of his bathroom, he can barely hear the commotion from outside, though Pidge does seem to make it a personal goal to be as loud as possible. Luckily, a certain timer allows him a few more of what Pidge calls seconds of relief before facing reality. 

He takes a deep breath, focusing on the tile, as plain as it is compared to everything around him. He’s found it helps ground him, somehow. After waiting for a few more ticks, he reaches for the beeping device and presses a small touchpad at the top of it and the beeping finally ceases. 

“Well I’m sorry if knowing you’re about to marry the douchiest guy in this fucking solar system makes me want to puke my guts out!” he yells as he begins to peel off his face mask. Apparently Earth isn’t completely horrible. 

“Oh, get over yourself. I’m sure he’s not thrilled either.”

“Hey! I’m a wonderful person!”

He can hear their laugh through the door. “I’m sure this guy isn’t thrilled to have to marry your ass either.”

“Commander Keith Kogane should be thrilled to marry me.”

Silence. 

“Uh, Pidgeot?” he calls, hand lingering over a bottle of moisturizer. 

This time, their voice is quieter, “Did you say Kogane? Like, Keith Kogane?”

“Yup. That’s his name,” he chuckles. 

“And he’s full Galra?”

He absently scans his brain as his hands apply the cream to his face but pauses when he doesn’t find the information he was looking for. “Actually, I’m not really sure. Why, is he like your long lost brother or something?”

“No. But he was on Earth.”

What is it with people around the castle and sudden secrets? Wasn’t he supposed to know everything, having lived here for his entire life and all?

“With you?”

“Yeah with me, you dumbass. How else would I have seen him?”

“I don’t know. But how haven’t you caught on before this? Aren’t you supposed to be the smart one?”

“I’m plenty smart, thank you, but you never really mentioned his last name.”

Lance scoffs, “How many other Keith’s do you know-”

“-Plenty.”

“What about ones with mullets?”

Pidge goes quiet for a while. “You really should hurry up.”

He smirks, not that they can see it. “That’s what I thought.” 

As he reaches for the door, he looks at his empty hands and remembers what his mother had given him years ago, telling him to give it to the man he wished to be with. True love, she had called it. 

Who knew true love is actually bullshit?

Regardless, he examines the rather simple ring, a solid gold band with delicate engravings wrapped around it, curling around some small diamonds, and eventually meeting the center stone. The angular red gem barely pokes out of the thick ring, making it a piece much too simple for Lance’s taste. 

Nevertheless, he puts it onto his middle finger, next to the rest of his golden jewelry, some with finely crafted sapphires placed along the band.

He reaches for his circlet, adjusting it until he looks somewhat presentable and then rushes into his main quarters where a certain gremlin seems unconcerned with both of their tardiness. Instead, they sit in his small living room, poking through a secret compartment by his blue chaise. 

“You ready?” he asks, glaring at their hands flying across the holoscreen, no doubt looking for the password to enter his secret snack stash.

Before he could get an answer, a small panel pops open on the side of the console, revealing various treats he had snuck from the kitchen. 

“Yup,” they say, grabbing one of his admittedly rare bags of ‘Pretzels’ from Earth.

“Ugh, what am I to do with you, stealing from the Prince of Altea?”

They raise an eyebrow, “You mean the prince that’s super late to his future husband’s arrival?”

“Fine. But we’re talking about this later.”

“Sure we are,” they say sarcastically before ushering Lance out of the room, shoes halfway onto his feet.

“It is my pleasure, on behalf of the Royal Family of Altea, to welcome Commander Keith Kogane of Daibazaal to our humble kingdom.” The booming voice of the announcer fills the courtyard, alerting the multitudes of citizens gathered outside of the Altean Palace. 

The guest in question steps out of his ornate chariot of black and purple and the only thought Lance can form is quiznack. The Commander is dressed in the traditional Galran ceremonial robes, dark red and black flowing over his shoulders in sharp lines. His face is obscured by a regal mask (though Lance can see the hideous remnants of a mullet curling at the base of his neck).

As he regains his bearings, most likely marveling at his new surroundings, another figure steps out of the carriage, this one larger than Keith. 

“And his brother and Second in Command, Takashi Shirogane of Daibazaal,” the announcer adds. 

Shirogane’s face is also hidden by a black mask with purple eyes, in similar make to Keith’s. His clothes, however, are clearly meant for battle. Deep purples cover him from head to toe, not an inch of skin exposed. No doubt a trick to make him appear more Altean.

The man elegantly exits the carriage with something oddly shaped, and oddly Altean, the white and teal standing out from his attire. It’s gone the second he takes another step, hidden behind the man’s cloak. 

Perhaps it was a trick of the light.

As the two make their way up the stairs, Alteans from the crowd fill the air with anything from suspicion to wonder. Whispers fill the streets before the announcer’s booming voice drowns them out.

“Commanders Kogane and Shirogane, I present to you, Lance McClain, Second Prince of Altea and Paladin of the Blue Lion, Left Leg of Voltron.”

Lance looks at them, barely able to discern any features from behind the masks. He resigns to looking them up and down, though stormy violet eyes meet curious blue. And, he’d bet his life on this, Keith fucking winked at him before removing his mask and settling it into his left hand. 

“Pleased to meet you, your highness,” he says, kneeling before the royal family.

Shirogane follows his example and sinks down to Keith’s level, mask in hand. “As am I.”

Alfor gestures for the two to rise, a diplomatic smile on his face. Allura, on the other hand, looks as if she’s about to kill someone, preferably Kogane, though he doubts anyone would notice. On the outside, she looks perfectly composed, a picturesque diplomat and queen. 

Under that, Lance knows she’s seething with rage. Her eyes look over Keith and Shirogane before offering a warm smile and her hand. 

“Welcome to Altea,” she offers curtly. 

Keith takes it, face blank.

“What he means is, thank you for granting us entrance to your kingdom so quickly. It’s just as lovely as I thought we would be.”

Allura’s smile holds firm, if not a bit stiff before extending a hand to Shirogane as well. “Takashi, I presume?”

“You may call me Shiro,” he says, taking her hand. 

“Ah, well, no disrespect intended, Shiro,” she responds, testing the name out. 

From there, an awkward silence hangs in the air before Allura gives him a look and nudges him in the knee. He flinches and tries to avoid blushing, slapping her back from behind, his hands still clasped together according to all nobles.

“Keith, Shiro,” he eventually greets.

Keith bows, stiffly, as if not used to the motion. “Prince Lance. It’s an honor.” 

“It is mine as well.” he says, trying to put a little more effort into the words. 

Is this really the man he’s supposed to marry? A mulleted idiot in command of the enemy kingdom? A man who has most likely killed more people than he’s ever seen, a man with too much blood on his hands? Someone with admittedly clear skin, however pale it is, a sharp jawline, and-

Quiznack. Nope. Not going there, Lance. Most definitely not. 

Just act normal. 

“Officer Shirogane, I presume?”

“Yes, your highness. It’s a pleasure to finally meet in person.”

“As is mine. I suppose both of you would like to join me in the palace. It is awfully hot out here.” He gives him a small wink before it disappears, and he allows his diplomatic facade to slip into place.

“We would love to,” Shiro says. 

Keith crosses his arms. “Lead the way.”

Once they were safely out of the eyes of the public, Lance allows himself to pay attention once more, having gotten the formalities out of the way. Altea may see him as some reformed diplomat, but he is determined to keep his basic rights, and to do that, it seems he will have to annoy Keith and Shiro out of his kingdom.

“You know, would it be so bad if that left?”

Keith stilled. “What exactly do you mean, Prince?” 

“Lance is fine,” he sneers. “All I meant is, I know you’re supposed to be big, bad and in charge, but do you really have to scare all your enemies off with a mullet? I mean, gods how did Pidge even deal with it!”

The soft chirps of birds echo throughout the garden, sunlight bouncing off of the flowers. The three continue walking down the intricate marble pathways, an odd sort of silence suffocating the two foreign men. Before he can make another comment, Lance swears he can hear Shiro snort. 

At least one of them isn’t a complete prick. 

Lance chances a glance to the others, only to see Keith’s fists, almost white in color, clenched at his side with Shiro’s face tensed and cheeks a rosy color. 

“Commanders?” He quips. 

Shiro raises an eyebrow. “If we’re to abstain from common courtesy, I suppose we should refrain from using formal titles.”

“Of course, Shiro. Keith.” 

“Whatever,” he grumbles. 

Lance snorts, “Ah, so he finally speaks! I was starting to think you weren’t interested.” 

Shiro’s hand suddenly finds its way to Keith’s fist which has suddenly become considerably paler. 

This was going to be too easy. 

“You know, it’s rude not to talk to your-”

He could’ve sworn he was still on the marble pathway, but apparently carts of plants were being moved to wherever the fuck they were getting moved to. Conveniently, they stopped moving right about where Lance was walking. 

Before he knew it, he was flat on his ass and various expensive plants, most of which were likely gifts from stuffy nobles, were scattered around the once spotless garden. 

“You were saying?” 

He doesn’t even have to look up to know it’s Keith, arms crossed, smug smirk, and a horrid mullet to top it all off. 

“Shut up,” he huffs. 

“And then he fucking crossed his arms, ‘Llura-”

“Yes, I saw.” 

“And he had this goddamn smirk on his face the whole time after we left for the gardens - even before I fell!”

She freezes. “What was that?”

“He was a quiznacking bother!” Lance huffs, emphasizing his point with an angry swipe of goo onto his face. 

“You fell?” Allura presses.

“Well yeah. He was being such an annoyance so I couldn’t look where I was going and there were these plants on the path-”

“Don’t-” she sets down her vial of face mask “-let it happen again.” 

He raises his eyebrow. “Why not?”

“We have to make a good impression on Kogane and Shirogane. Lance, this isn’t a matter of a petty rivalry, it’s a matter of our kingdom.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one marrying him.”

“If I was, I would do what is needed. If it included holding polite conversation, I would invite Kogane on walks in the garden every morning. If it included entertaining his bodyguard, I would do that as well. The power they have is alarming, especially over the lions so I would do what I would need to in your shoes. However, I am not the one marrying him, as you said. You are,” she says, not a single emotion on her face. 

“How can you say that?”

“Easily, I suppose.” 

Lance shifts in his seat. Everything came easy to Allura, especially diplomatic ventures. He never thought that he would have to do this, that it would go as far as the lions. Pressing his sister would do nothing for his curiosity, but if this were to be a long term plan, he would have to adjust. 

Blue means everything to him. Voltron too. When they find the yellow, red, and black paladins they won’t have to worry about Keith’s massive military firepower, or Shiro’s remarkable armies. 

“Okay.”

She perks up.

“I’ll try. For you.”

“Thank you, little brother. You’re doing your kingdom a great service.” 

He gets up, knowing that she has gotten what she wanted out of him and that he’ll be asked to leave for one reason or another sooner or later. He takes a deep breath, hands shaking as he collects various bottles and hair clips from Allura’s vanity into a small basket as she tidies her bathroom off the side of her suite. 

Altea will be okay in the end. His people will have a bright future, free from the threat of looming war.

Lance just isn’t sure about his own being awfully chipper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for real tho, i am super sorry about the long wait. i've had a horrible creative block and hopefully this fic will help me overcome that! i love writing it and i hope this chapter turned out okay
> 
> edit: if anyone knows how to get rid of the double notes at the end of the chapter please let me know!


	3. Let's Disappoint Each other!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> made ya look :)

It took Lance a while to get used to the Galrans’ presence in the palace, the one with the shitty hairstyle in particular. Perhaps it was the way that he walked, the way he sipped his tea, or the immense military backing that looms with his very presence, but something about the man doesn’t feel right to him. 

Then again, it could be beneficial to get to know him. He might have information that would benefit Altea and if he’s lucky, he might give it to him without question. That’s the point of alliances, right? 

Would he have to be sneaky? Pleasant? Naive? 

Fuck, those ettiquette lessons would be great right about now. 

“Lance? Buddy?”

He jerks his head to the direction of the noise, promptly spilling his drink on his shirt. “What?”

Hunk offers a small smile, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he answers, reaching for the towel drawer. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“No reason,” he hums. 

The two quickly fall into a comfortable silence; Hunk preparing something that seems too spicy for him to even smell, and Lance reorganizing various linens he had knocked over. It wasn’t awkward, just nice. The way he and Hunk don’t have to tip toe past each other’s egos, the way they can simply exist around one another. 

It’s familiar in a way that only the two of them share. 

Allura is, and always will be, somewhat of an enigma, even to her own brother. It wasn’t for a lack of trying on either sibling’s part, at least to Lance. He could never do what Allura does and she wouldn’t be able to stomach the diplomacy-heavy role he had been forced into instead of her war meetings and...whatever else she does.

Pidge doesn’t always understand the intricacies of Altean royalty and has always been rather blunt for the entire duration that they have been here. They’re great for a laugh, but he’s never felt awfully comfortable with silence around them, especially when they’re fiddling with their foreign technology from Earth that Hunk shares their fascination with. 

The only other person around the castle is Keith, who Lance has been actively avoiding as much as possible. Outside of mandatory periods of time when the court expects them to begin to court, he’s steered clear of him like the plague.

With Hunk, it’s different. He’s like an older brother he never had, a missing half that he’d gone too long without. They understood one another from the first day he had arrived at the castle when they were kids. They understand one another as Hunk asks another chef to taste the spices before he adds them into the bowl instead of him, as Lance desperately attempts to clean his shirt that he and Hunk agree is too formal for him. 

They understand that Keith is a miserable prick. 

“Your Highness?” A servant looks at him expectantly, motioning towards the door.

Lance shoots Hunk a half-hearted smile. “That’s my cue.” 

“Is it Keith again?”

He looks over to the servant who gives him a short nod.

“Yup,” he says, popping the ‘p’.

“Good luck, buddy!”

“I won’t be needing it-” he jumps off the counter with a flourish before dipping his hand into an odd looking dough “-Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.”

“Looks like you will,” he laughs, pushing Lance out the door.

“Why’s it gotta be so spicy?” He whines.

“Galrans, I suppose.”

Screw Daibazaal and their shitty food. 

Lance found himself hating walking through his home. Places that once seemed like innocent places for hide and seek are suddenly questionable areas to enter alone. The people he practically grew up with were no longer the only faces surrounding him. Even the castle walls that once seemed so inviting through his childhood seemingly dim as soon as the Galran guards make their presence known. As if shadows themselves, these guards wear a different uniform than the ones that had surrounded Keith and Shiro’s carriage. 

The blue and golden uniforms were becoming a rare sight to Lance, the guards around him rotating before he can ever learn their names. Even then, the schedules never stay the same, especially for the Galran bodyguards. Instead of heavy breastplates with glowing magenta markings indicating rank, sleek, dark purple figures with hoods roam the Altean grounds. 

It’s all completely foreign to Lance, startlingly so. 

“Haven’t seen you around before.” 

The man pauses before answering, voice obscured by his mask,“Perhaps that is because I have not been here before.”

“Well, yeah,” Lance hesitates. “Um, good day, sir.”

“Good day.” He could practically hear the smirk in his voice. 

What is it with these Galrans?

“By the way,” he adds, “Commander Kogane is in the Eastern Library.”

Lance’s mouth responds before his brain can catch up. “So?” 

Fuck.

He sees the guard’s mask shift a bit, as if he is smiling. “Your Majesty, I believe he’s waiting for you.”

He heard that Kogane was known for his impulsive tendencies and bold personality, but to go to his favorite place in the castle for a meeting without even telling him is a new low. Especially when this particular meeting was essentially the beginning of a peace treaty. 

Lance rushes down the elegant hallways before stopping next to an ornate painting of his father. He takes a quick glance, making sure nobody - especially not the Galrans - are looking in his direction before carefully sliding his fingers behind the canvas and against the wall on the right hand side. With a small noise, the door opens into a small hallway, barely large enough for him to stand. 

He slowly guides the door to click back into place with a haphazard handle glued onto the golden portrait frame before rushing down the passageway, taking two lefts and a right. Pressing his ear against the wooden panel blocking his path at the end of the hall, he hears nothing, and does the same as the portrait and proceeds to climb out and guide the display case back into the wall. 

Sure enough, Lance finds himself outside of the entrance to the Eastern Library, the tall double doors effectively dwarfing the maintenance corridors and various tapestries around it. 

“Here goes nothing,” he mutters, bursting through the doors.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed! i'll try to update as soon as i finish these chapters (and if people want it?) so, i'd love to hear your take on the fic!


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